The Q Conundrum
by jodm
Summary: Start with that galactic mischief-maker Q. Add Five-O, Starfleet, a few Klingons, and a couple of criminals on the loose and you have the recipe for adventure - and trouble! Oh, and don't forget the tribbles . . .
1. Chapter 1

_Hawaii Five-O, Star Trek, and Star Trek TNG belong to CBS. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is a follow-up to my earlier tale, "Encounter at the Palace."_

_This story was inspired by the original series episodes "The Squire of Gothos," and "I, Mudd," and the many TNG, DS9, and Voyager episodes featuring the delightfully infamous Q. The character of Trelane is identified as a member of the Q continuum in __Q Squared__ by Peter David. Again, no copyright infringement is intended._

_Thanks are also due to the late Gene Roddenberry, whose imagination created an on-going future history and to all who gave life to its iconic characters. Beam us up, Scotty!_

* * *

**THE Q CONUNDRUM**

* * *

_**CHAPTER 1: The SET-UP  
**_

_**The Q Continuum . . .**_

_It was supposed to be a simple experiment: exchange two men from two different time periods to see how they'd react. How could it go wrong? Q, the almost omnipotent being who'd devised the project, pondered the question. It would—should—could easily work. But he'd have to deal with the presence of the insufferable Mr. Spock and that meddling young detective. Q knew he had created the problem; now he had to solve it. Or perhaps . . . he could let the humans arrive at the solution. No, that would be too simple. He needed to stir the pot, add a little excitement. Perhaps the Borg? Too early in human history. The Xindi? Too late. Ah, he had it. Another exchange. Harry Mudd and the criminal known as Big Chicken. Interesting. Interesting enough? Maybe. Or maybe he should have stayed with harassing Picard and Riker. Later . . ._

_He waved his hand . . . and the universe blinked._

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Honolulu, Spring 1970**_

Captain James T. Kirk pinched the bridge of his nose for the third time. The headache hadn't gone away. Instead, it had gotten worse. He looked around the unfamiliar office: a beautiful wooden desk, probably an antique; white leather furniture; French doors opening to a small patio (somehow he knew it was called a lanai); archaic communications equipment. _Was that really an old telephone?_ He definitely wasn't in his quarters, preparing to go on duty. And why was he dressed like this? The aloha shirt and khaki slacks—not Starfleet regulation. Was that a weapon, a holstered pistol, lying on the desk? It reminded him of something . . . no, someone. McGarrett! Steve McGarrett! But what was he doing in McGarrett's time? In McGarrett's office? And if he was here, where was McGarrett? On the _Enterprise?_

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**USS Enterprise, Stardate 5297.2**_

Steve McGarrett shook his head in an attempt to relieve a severe feeling of disorientation. He studied the unfamiliar quarters . . . nothing he recognized except for a few leather-bound books, old books. That thing on the desk, was it a small TV? No dials, just a screen. And the uniform! Black pants, gold shirt, four stripes on the sleeve. Captain's stripes. Something tickled his memory, something he was supposed to have forgotten. A name. Kirk, James T. Kirk. Captain James T. Kirk, _USS Enterprise_. A starship from another time, an impossible encounter, Danno in danger. What was he doing here? How did he get here? And if he was here, where was Kirk? A thought surfaced. _Five-O!_

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Honolulu**_

Harry Mudd, con-man and petty thief extraordinaire, looked around the comfortable apartment. No, more than comfortable, luxurious. Definitely not the old bucket of bolts he called a ship or the cheap spacers' hotel he currently inhabited... He checked the galley—correction, kitchen. No replicators, but a cold storage cabinet, something his memory told him was called a refrigerator, was well-stocked with food and appropriate beverages. No Romulan ale, but at least a plentiful supply of beer. Opening a bottle, he took a satisfying swig and continued his exploration. A bedroom closet full of clothes, just about his size. Not as flamboyant as he liked, but serviceable. And those shirts! He'd never seen anything like those colors and patterns. He tried one on—a perfect fit! He was going to like it here, wherever here was. He just had to find the right con.

A ringing sound interrupted his thoughts. He followed it to an odd instrument, something he assumed was a piece of communications equipment. He lifted the handset to hear a voice saying, "Hey, Chick! Got word of a big shipment coming in tonight. What you wanna do 'bout it? Gotta keep under Five-O's radar. You know McGarrett."

"How about you come to my place in 30 minutes," Mudd replied, imitating the caller's vocal mannerisms. So, his name was "Chick?" He hoped it wasn't short for "Chicken." And who in space was McGarrett?

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Sherman's Planet, Station K-7**_

Big Chicken, Hawaii's top drug supplier, looked around the bar. Where was he? He'd been waiting for a phone call from one of his underlings and now? Obviously a bar, but who—or what—were the patrons? Blue-skinned, antennaed aliens (How did he know that?), tall, dark-skinned men who radiated violence, women in deliciously short skirts, and hundreds of small fuzzy, chirping things. One of the fuzzy things reared up in anger as a dark-skinned warrior approached. The man spit out "P'tahQ" as he kicked it away. Chicken felt like he'd stepped on the set of a bad science fiction movie, only something told him this was neither science fiction nor a movie. This was reality. His reality. Maybe his for the taking? He'd just have to find out where—and when—he was. Maybe he could get some answers from the scruffily-dressed human attempting to collect the fuzz balls.

_q-q-q-q-q_

_Q's smile was almost predatory. The players were ready. Let the game begin!_

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Honolulu**_

"Morning, Steve," Danny Williams called out as he entered his boss's office, cup of coffee in hand. Seeing the open lanai door, he figured McGarrett was out there, enjoying the early morning peace before the usual round of cases, meetings, and unforeseen emergencies. The young detective stepped out on the lanai, then stopped short. The sandy-haired, compactly-built man staring at him through hazel eyes was only a few years older than himself, yet he radiated command. Williams felt a hazy, forgotten memory surface from somewhere: a ship; a sensation of drowning; Steve calling his name and pulling him out of a whirlpool of another's thoughts; an infinite star field. "Kirk," he remembered. "Captain Kirk?" The other man nodded as Dan continued, "Where's Steve? What happened? Why are you here? _Where's Steve?"_ Dan's growing concern echoed in his voice.

"On the _Enterprise, _I think." Kirk responded. "And, no, I don't know how or why. But I intend to find out."

Danny was somewhat reassured by the other man's tone. He fell into detective mode as he asked, "What can you tell me, Captain?"

Kirk shook his head ruefully. "Not much, I'm afraid. I was preparing to go on duty when I found myself here. We were en route for Sherman's Planet—that's on the Klingon-Federation border some days' journey at Warp 8—and now I'm here."

"Here. In Steve's office," Danny continued. "We'll need to find a way to explain your presence. Chin and Kono, our other two team members, will be here in a few minutes for a morning briefing." The detective sorted through some papers on McGarrett's desk. "They'll need to know the whole story." He thought quickly. "If anyone else asks, Steve's been sent on an undercover assignment and you're a Navy Intelligence officer who'll be working on the case with Five-O. It's flimsy, but it will have to do. Our job will be to get Steve back here and return you to your ship." Danny sat down with a gulp as he realized the enormity and seeming impossibility of the task. _Sherman's Planet? Klingons? Warp speed? What if Steve wasn't on the Enterprise? Where—and when—could they even begin to look?_

"That may not be as difficult as you imagine," Kirk broke in. "Mr. Spock, my First Officer, knows McGarrett. He'll find a way to return him home." The Starfleet officer looked around the office, taking in the phone, tape recorder, and blackboard. Not even a computer. _Too bad subspace radio won't be invented for another couple of hundred years._ He placed a hand on Dan's shoulder in a gesture so reminiscent of Steve's. "We'll get him back. _And me back to my ship."_ Kirk smiled at the worried young detective. "And please, call me Jim."

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**USS Enterprise**_

McGarrett turned swiftly at the sound of a chime. The door swished open as a tall, somber Vulcan greeted him with a "Good morning, Captain." An appraising look and a raised eyebrow indicated surprise as a preternaturally solemn voice questioned "Mr. McGarrett? What are you doing here? Where is Captain Kirk?"

Again, a hazy memory surfaced from a forgotten vault. "Mr. . . . Spock?"

"Indeed, Mr. McGarrett. And if you are here, I must assume that the Captain has taken your place." Unspoken concern, well-hidden by Vulcan discipline, allowed the First Officer to continue calmly, "Can you describe anything about what brought you here? Any information you can give me will help me locate Captain Kirk."

Steve shrugged. "I was standing on my office lanai when everything suddenly seemed to blink. I found myself here, in your Captain's quarters, in this uniform. Beyond that, nothing. If I'm on the _Enterprise, _Kirk must be at Five-O."

"Everything suddenly seemed to blink," Spock repeated pensively. He retreated into memory for a moment, then spoke a single name. "Trelane."

"Trelane?"

"A seemingly omnipotent being, able to manipulate matter and energy," the Vulcan responded. Then, touching a communicator button on the Captain's desk, he continued. "Lt. Uhura, Spock here. Please call a meeting of all senior officers in the briefing room in 10 minutes. We have encountered a problem."

"More than just one problem, Mr. Spock," the Communications Officer's voice responded. Station Chief Lurry's assistant, Mr. Tellin, has issued a general alert. An individual calling himself Chick has taken the Station Chief hostage. Tellin managed to transmit a few images. I'm sending then now."

"Chick," McGarrett mused as he looked at the images. He found himself staring at a well-known face. "Big Chicken! How?" He caught his breath as he turned to the First Officer. "Mr. Spock, we do indeed have a problem. I know this man. His real name is Henry Bauer. He's a drug dealer and a wanted criminal. What is he doing here?"

_q-q-q-q-q_

"_Trelane!" __Q snorted at the insult._ _"Trelane! A mere child among the inhabitants of the Continuum. Only a few millennia old. A child with all the powers of a Q, but none of the savoir faire. Just look at his experiments! He was only interested in replaying the wars of the early Nineteenth Century. Vive Napoléon, indeed!" _

_q-q-q-q-q_

* * *

_**Note: **__Henry Bauer (Big Chicken) and his associate Konrad Borland also appear in my stories "Mistaken Identity" and "Chicken Feed." They were identified as former guards at a Luftstalag during WWII. They were also involved in the Black Market._


	2. Chapter 2

_Please note: This story originally appeared on the main classic Five-O pages. It has been moved to the crossover section to accommodate Star Trek readers._

_**CHAPTER 2: A SWITCH IN TIME  
**_

_**Sherman's Planet, Station K-7**_

"_This was just too easy,"_ Chicken thought as he leered at his prisoner. That scruffy tribble hunter, Cyrano Jones, had told him all he needed to know about this space station—no, more than that, an important base orbiting a planet that could become a breadbasket world to exploit. His own planet, along with his own space station, a headquarters for creative new activities in a universe free from Steve McGarrett and his kid detective. Perhaps he could even make use of those Klingons. He'd need some muscle to take over the planet. It seemed that all he had to worry about was some military officer named Kirk. Jones did seem a bit afraid of the man, but how often did a space cadet get out this way?

Lurry was sputtering, jabbering away about something called "Starfleet." _Some kind of military,_ Chicken thought. He aimed his .22 at the frightened station manager, who quieted down immediately. "Good," the drug kingpin sneered. "At least you recognize a gun. Now if you don't shut up and stay that way, you'll find out how it works, painfully so, I'm afraid. As of now, this station is under new management. Mine."

The station manager, unable to stop shaking, sat at his desk. He studied his captor through half closed eyes. The man was a study in contradictions. He did seem to know something about the station, but nothing more than a casual trader would know, a trader like Cyrano Jones. He'd obviously seen the few Klingons on shore leave but acted as if he was totally unaware of their antagonism towards humans and especially Starfleet. _"Starfleet!" _Lurry thought. He'd requested assistance in dealing once again with Klingons and those ubiquitous tribbles. The _Enterprise_ had responded. That meant Kirk!

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Honolulu**_

"Morning, Boss," Kono mumbled between bites of a donut. He stopped short as he realized that the man behind the big desk wasn't McGarrett. The Hawaiian detective looked at Danny, obviously seeking information.

"Kono," Danny nodded at his colleague, "This is James Kirk—Captain James Kirk." The young cop watched as the two men sized each other up, then asked, "Where's Chin?"

"Here, Danny," the fourth member of the team responded as he entered the office. "What's going on? You look worried, real worried. And who's this Captain Kirk? Why isn't Steve here?" Chin looked around the office. No sign of the lead detective. "Where is he?"

"On my ship," Kirk answered. "Have a seat, gentlemen. This will be hard to believe . . . ."

The two detectives agreed: Kirk's story was hard to believe. A starship from the future? Trading places with Steve? Aliens? Tribbles, whatever they were? But Danny seemed OK with the man's story, almost as if he'd been aboard that ship. Chin and Kono looked at the young detective, wanting more information.

"You look like you believe this, this . . ." Chin was at a loss for words.

"I do," Williams replied. "I've met the captain before, but I don't have much memory of it. I do know that we can trust him."

Kirk picked up the conversation. "It's a complicated story, my friends. Someday when we have time, I'll share it with you. Meanwhile . . ." he broke off as Jenny entered the room.

"Steve," she began, then stopped in surprise. "Where's Steve?"

"The Navy called him away on a special assignment. Captain Kirk will be working with us on this end." Danny looked at the usually unflappable office manager. She seemed worried.

"Duke just called in," she reported. "He's been doing surveillance on Big Chicken. HPD got word of a possible drug shipment due at the docks tonight. He sent over some photos of a man just outside Chick's place." She handed the photos to Five-O's second in command and returned to her desk.

Kirk and the detectives clustered around the photos as Dan spread them out on the boss' desk. The captain picked one up, then nearly dropped it in surprise.

"Gentlemen," Kirk said quietly, "We have a problem. I know this man. Harry Mudd."

"Who's dat?" Kono questioned.

Kirk shook his head as if trying to rid himself of some unpleasant memories. "The galaxy's biggest con man, wanted on seven planets for extortion, blackmail, grand theft." He clenched his fist and continued, "And if he's here, that must mean your Big Chicken is in my time."

"But how?" Dan sputtered.

"Trelane!" Kirk fairly spit out the name. "Or one of his race. Whoever they are, they can do almost anything, manipulate matter and energy, shift someone through time and space. If Trelane is behind this, we have a bigger problem than I thought."

_q-q-q-q-q_

_Almost too easy, Q thought. Those Starfleet captains are all the same - too smart for their own good. He shrugged_. _Might as well see how this plays out."_

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**USS Enterprise**_

Steve, still dressed in a Starfleet uniform, followed Spock to the briefing room. Heads turned as they entered; McCoy barked in surprise, "Mr. McGarrett! What are you doing here? Where's the Captain?"

"On earth, most probably in Mr. McGarrett's time," the First Officer answered. "He quickly recounted what information he had, then finished, "I believe Trelane or one of his people is behind this exchange."

"So ye'd be in command now, Mr. Spock?" Scotty's worry was evident in his thickening brogue.

"Until we retrieve the Captain. Meanwhile, we will continue on our mission to Station K-7. Mr. McGarrett has information that may be useful in dealing with the situation there."

"But the Captain!" the doctor spluttered. You can't just go off and leave him, you pointy-eared, green-blooded . . ."

"Doctor," the Vulcan broke in calmly. "We have a good idea where the Captain is. "

"He's at Five-O," Steve interrupted, "With my team. They'll keep him safe. Meanwhile, as Mr. Spock noted, there is a situation on this station that needs immediate attention: Big Chicken!"

"You know him?" Sulu questioned.

"Unfortunately," McGarrett muttered under his breath. "He's a dangerous criminal—a drug dealer and supplier."

"Who doesn't know anything about our time. That makes him even more dangerous," Bones continued. "He could be dealing with situations he knows nothing about."

"And I'd hoped this was just a simple mission to deal with those wee tribbles," Scott finished.

"Have ye got a plan, Mr. Spock?"

"Not yet," Spock's voice was typically unemotional, but this crew could read his concern in the slant of an eyebrow or the slight tightening of the shoulders. "But Mr. McGarrett might. Miss Uhura, please call up the plans of the station."

Steve swallowed a surprised gasp as he studied the cutaway view of Station K-7. The place was huge, a city in space! And Chicken was aboard it? He nearly missed Spock's next words,

The Vulcan pointed to the station chief's office. "Big Chicken _(he almost grimaced at the name)_ is here with Mr. Lurry. He will be completely unaware of the station's capacities and its defenses. He is also unaware of Mr. McGarrett's presence. That may give us the element of surprise."

"Or get us all killed," McCoy muttered.

"There's another problem, Sir," Chekov noted. "Keptin Koloth's ship is docked at the station."

"Klingons!" Scotty's dark voice made the word into an expletive.

"Klingons?" McGarrett questioned.

"A warrior people," Spock replied. "They do not take insults lightly and hold their personal honor in the highest esteem. They can be extremely violent. We have had – _he hesitated on the word _– difficulties with them in the past. I can give you more information later if you wish."

Steve did indeed wish. Forewarned is forearmed and he needed all the information he could get.

_q-q-q-q-q_

Chicken could only stare at the tall, swarthy man who looked at him as if he were some kind of nasty small animal. The man's words confirmed his feelings.

"P'tahQ! You expect me, a Klingon warrior, to follow your commands? You are not worthy to clean up after my pet targ!" He stormed out of the office.

"Now you've done it!" Stationmaster Lurry snorted. "You just insulted a Klingon ship commander! He'll turn his disruptors on us and blow this station to atoms. You'd better hope Kirk gets here soon."

Chicken, living up to his name, thought it might be a good idea if that space cadet and his wonder ship did come flying in over the horizon.

_q-q-q-q-q_

_Q rubbed his hands together in glee. "Better and better," he almost sang. "And now, Klingons enter the mix. Things are getting interesting." He shifted his perspective centuries and parsecs away to a small planet and an even smaller island._

_q-q-q-q-q_

* * *

_**Note:** The title of this chapter was inspired by that of Madeleine L'Engle's classic __A Stich in Time.__ No copyright infringement is intended._


	3. Chapter 3

_**CHAPTER 3: A MUDD-Y MESS  
**_

_**Honolulu**_

Danny dropped the photos he was studying onto the big desk and pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a particularly nasty headache coming on. "Captain . . . uh, Jim, . . . How likely is this Harry Mudd to find allies in our time? You described him as a con man, but what kind of cons? What does he deal in?"

'I suppose you could call him a snake oil salesman," Kirk replied. "Anything that will make a profit. So far, he's stayed away from hard drugs—that would get him into more trouble than he could handle. He mainly looks for easy ways to separate people from their credits, you know, things like Antarean glow water, Spican flame gems, Regulan tobacco, love potions, anti-gravity devices. I believe he even tried selling frozen gag'h to the Klingons."

"Don't know what dat is, Bruddah," Kono interrupted, "But it don't sound good!"

_I don't think I want to know what that is! _Danny felt slightly overwhelmed. "So, how is this Mudd likely to respond to drug trafficking?"

"He probably won't touch it," Kirk responded. "He likes to stay just on this side of the law. Prison or rehab doesn't agree with him,, especially after the Klingons threatened to send him to Rura Penthe."

"Rura Penthe?" Chin questioned.

"A prison planetoid." Kirk didn't offer any further information. He'd probably broken the Prime Directive at least a dozen times in the last hour.

"That leaves us with just one question," Danny stated. "When—and how—do we pick up Mr. Mudd? And on what charges? So far he's done nothing illegal here."

"Duke reported a possible drug shipment coming in tonight. Chick would be there, so maybe Mudd will go in his place. We could pick him up and possibly some of Chick's associates as well."

"Sounds good, Chin," Williams replied. "Contact HPD for surveillance on the freight piers. I'll call Duke and Ben. They can let us know who tries to contact Chick and then follow the guy. That might pinpoint where the shipment's being unloaded. Kono, get the list of arriving ships, especially small tramp freighters. They're most likely to be running drugs.

"Got it, Bruddah," his colleagues responded.

Kirk grinned at the young detective. "You run a tight ship! We should be able to get Harry before he causes any real trouble." He saw a lot of himself in the young detective. _He'd make a great Starfleet officer in my time._

"Real trouble is what I'm afraid of," Danny replied, a worried look on his face. "Is Mudd likely to carry any weapons from the future?

"Unlikely. I don't have my phaser or communicator, so I doubt he would either.

_q-q-q-q-q_

Harry Mudd sauntered down the street near the (or was it now his?) apartment. Good thing he'd noticed the door had one of those old-fashioned locks. He'd checked every drawer until he found a key that fit, then headed out for a walk. He needed to find out where he was and what people used for credits around here. He assumed it would be some kind of paper or coin. After all, this seemed like a pretty archaic society. He poked in and out of several shops. _Lots of nice items here! They'd sell for a pretty penny (whatever a penny was) on some backwater planet or space station. _

A newspaper vending machine caught his eye. He studied the front page: _Honolulu Advertiser, _July 1, 1970. _Hawaii!_ _Nineteen-seventy! More than two centuries in the past! How did this happen?! And what was this story about something called Five-O? _Too bad the box was locked. He wanted to read the rest of the story. And he still needed to discover how he'd gotten here.

_Kirk! Kirk had something to do with this! _The thought flashed through his mind. He'd rather — make that almost rather — be stuck on the planet where that little tin god had marooned him with a hundred android Stellas! No, he was better off here. At least the weather was warm, Stella was two hundred years in the future, and he had a place to live, even if that apartment did remind him a bit of a certain trade outpost he'd visited in a far corner of the Alpha Quadrant. Those little guys with the big ears were almost as good at cutting a sharp deal as he was. And their _Rules of Acquisition . . . _Now _there_ were some very interesting ways of swindling the marks, uh, customers. He'd given them every Spican flame gem in his cargo for a copy, but it had been worth it.

Speaking of that apartment, he'd better get back there. He had a meeting coming up. Hopefully, it would be profitable and maybe even give him a way to get back at Captain James T. Kirk!

_q-q-q-q-q_

The buzz of the phone pulled Danny out of his study of the info on ship movements. He punched the speaker button.

"Duke here. Mudd's gone back to the apartment. He's out on the lanai. Looks like he's waiting for someone."

"Thanks, Duke. Keep us informed."

"Will do, Danny. What a time for the Navy to call Steve away for a special assignment."

_You don't know the half of it. _Danny signed off and turned to Kirk. "Now we wait."

_q-q-q-q-q_

Mudd grabbed another beer from the fridge, popped the cap, and took a satisfying swallow. Waiting for the unknown was nerve-wracking. He finally had the beginnings of a plan, one that just might discredit Captain Kirk, if he ever got back to his own century. That visit to Delta Iotia with its gangster mobs could give him an edge in making his way in this primitive society.

A series of knocks on the door interrupted his reverie. He opened it to admit the visitor.

"Hey, Chick . . ." the startled visitor began. "You're not Chick! Who are you? What are you doing here?" The man reached for a suspicious bulge in his pocket.

"Leave that piece where it is, Buddy," Mudd growled, trying to sound like a 1920's tough guy. "Your pal Chick's fine. He's just been called away by the Federation. We got a little job we want him to set up for us."

"The Federation?' Mudd read the question in the other man's voice.

"We're taking over the local organizations. We want Chick and his pals to run things for us. I'm here to set things up. Mudd's the name. Harcourt Fenton Mudd. I also use various aliases, but you don't need to worry about that yet. Now, the shipment you mentioned in our recent conversation? Consider it a test run, Mr. . . ."

"Borland, Konrad Borland. Big Chicken and I are partners. We run a legitimate import business as a cover for our other activities."

A legitimate business covering up a con! That was something Mudd could understand. After all, he'd played the same game more or less successfully throughout the Alpha Quadrant. He smiled greedily. "So tell me about tonight's con." _Let's see what the Rules of Acquisition have to say about this!_

"The shipment is listed as herbal medicines; the actual content is high-grade heroin from the Golden Triangle. To avoid suspicion, it was transshipped by various means before being designated for Chinese pharmacies in Hawaii. It will be unloaded tonight along with some legitimate material. It will be delivered to a representative of the Li Hong Pharmacy and handed over to me. From there, it will be delivered to our dealers."

"So the shipment is secure?"

"As secure as we can make it. I don't believe Five-O knows about it."

"See that they don't find out." Mudd's voice took on a menacing tone. He'd found that worked well with petty thieves – and local law enforcement, especially on backwater planets like this one. "Now, the name of the ship? For the Federation's records, of course."

"Of course," Borland answered. "The _Kobayashi Maru_."

Mudd coughed to hide his discomfort. _Starfleet's infamous no-win scenario! _He hoped the name wouldn't prove prophetic. At least Kirk wasn't around to spoil things.

_q-q-q-q-q_

_Q smiled in satisfaction. This was turning out better than he expected. He'd look in on things here later. For now, he'd check the situation on Space Station K-7. Things could get very interesting with the Klingons involved. He was looking forward to it._

_q-q-q-q-q_


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER 4: ENTER THE KLINGONS  
**_

_**USS Enterprise**_

"Mr. Spock," Uhura's soft voice was full of concern. "Captain Koloth would like to speak to you."

Spock signaled the communications officer to keep the Klingon captain on hold momentarily. "Mr. McGarrett, please take the Captain's chair. I will speak to Koloth."

At the Vulcan's nod, Uhura activated the link. Koloth appeared on the view screen, flanked by two of his command staff. "Mr. Spock. I was expecting to speak with Captain Kirk."

"The Captain is on a special assignment for Starfleet. I am temporarily in command." He indicated the command chair. Captain McGarrett represents Starfleet Criminal Investigative Service."

"A Starfleet police officer?" Surprise registered on Koloth's face. "Perhaps you can be of use in our current situation." The Klingon commander was barely holding his temper in control.

"Please elaborate."

"Big Chicken!" Koloth exploded. "That P'tahQ is without honor! He attempted to give me – me, a Klingon warrior – orders. He treated me as a servant. If you don't kill him, I will!"

Steve nodded to the First Officer then addressed the angry warrior. "SCIS sent me to apprehend this man. He is a wanted criminal in the Federation." He paused for a moment as he studied Koloth's expression. "We would be grateful for any assistance you would choose to give us." He struck just the right note as he added "The insult to your honor must be avenged. Chicken's crimes are also an insult to us. Together, we can restore the honor of both the Empire and the Federation."

The three Klingon officers conferred briefly. "Avenging our honor is our highest priority. Perhaps this one time we could work together. A temporary truce."

"It might be necessary to meet in person. It would facilitate our planning," Spock offered.

"We will meet on your ship in ten minutes. My senior officer will accompany me." Spock read finality in that statement as the Klingons cut communication.

"Starfleet will never believe this," drawled McCoy, leaning on the railing near Scotty's station.

"Aye, Doctor. Klingons on the _Enterprise._" Scott's brogue deepened. "Mr. Spock, I dinna know there was a Starfleet Criminal Investigative Service."

"There is not," the Vulcan raised an eyebrow. "But perhaps there should be."

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Sherman's Planet, Station K-7**_

Big Chicken waved his gun at the frightened Station Manager. "The only reason you're still alive is that I need information! Now tell me about these Klingons." A tribble wriggled across the floor and snuggled up to the criminal's foot, chirping contentedly. He kicked it out of his way. "And get rid of these pests!"

"Klingons are warriors. They have the right to shore leave on this station. Their captain, Koloth, is a very proud man; they all are." Lurry's voice trembled with fear. "You insulted their honor by demanding they take orders from you! You're lucky they didn't kill you!" _And how I wish they had! Kirk had better get here soon!_

"Lily-livered scum!" Chick spat out the epithet. "What sort of stuff passes through this station? What kinds of ships? What's their cargo?" He hoped to find a way to use the place to set up a drug trade. There was always a way – and men and women desperate or greedy enough to agree to his leadership as long as he gave them what they wanted. And he intended to do just that.

A strident buzz broke the criminal's concentration. "Answer that!" he commanded the station manager.

"L- Lurry." The man's voice shook. Chick pushed him out of the way as he barked "This is your new boss, Henry Bauer. You're taking orders from me. One step out of the way and you will be shot!" _And sent to the Russian Front! _The old refrain from his days as a guard at a Luftstalag echoed in his mind.

"Mr. Bauer. Or should I say 'Chick?'" a deep voice devoid of emotion answered. "This is the _Enterprise. _We will arrive at the station in approximately three hours."

"_Enterprise!" _Lurry yelled. "He's got hostages! He forced me to seal off engineering and the cargo and supply decks.! I . . . A-h-h-h-h!" The sound of well-aimed punch ended the man's outburst.

"He's still alive, you out there," Chick snarled. "But he won't be for long if he tries anything like that again. This is my station. You and your ship keep away, Space Boy."

Spock was at his most infuriating as he answered "You are alone. How do you expect to hold an entire orbiting station hostage? It is illogical. And why do you call yourself after an edible fowl? Especially one whose name denotes an attitude of cowardice and fear?"

Chicken slammed a fist into the intercom. He'd threatened to kill a man and that space cadet dared to lecture him!

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**USS Enterprise**_

"Spock," McCoy laughed, "I couldn't have done that better myself! Edible fowl!"

"Indeed, Doctor. You would have dissolved into an emotional tirade." The First Officer moved to the turbolift. "Senior officers, report to the briefing room. Mr. McGarrett, you, Dr. McCoy, and Mr. Scott will accompany me to the transporter room to meet our guests. Mr. Kyle, you have the bridge. Beta team will handle the necessary stations. Gentlemen …"

"No security, Spock?" McCoy ranted. "Are you out of your ever-lovin' Vulcan mind? These are _Klingons!"_

"Calm yourself, Doctor. Two security men are already in place. Our guests would expect it."

Steve stifled a grin. _McCoy sounds like Bergman! _He wondered how Danno and his team were doing. Would he ever see them again? He pushed the thought aside before the emotion it brought on overwhelmed him. _One thing at a time, McGarrett. Spock must be equally worried about his captain. _"Stay safe, Danno, all of you," he whispered. It was almost a prayer.

Scotty took his place at the transporter controls as Koloth signaled readiness for beaming. The security guards stood at attention. It was always better to anticipate trouble rather than react to it.

Steve watched almost in disbelief as the transporter chimed and two tall figures materialized. Spock bowed slightly. "Captain Koloth, First Officer Korax, I believe you have already met Dr. McCoy and Mr. Scott, our Chief Engineer." He nodded toward Steve. "This is Captain McGarrett. He is here to help apprehend the miscreant. Now gentlemen, shall we go to the briefing room?"

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Space Station K-7**_

Chicken paced the confines of Lurry's office like a caged tiger. What kind of world had he dropped into? Weird beings who seemed to be taken as the norm, starships, angry aliens, and these pesky, disgusting furballs. He'd blustered, threatened, all to no avail. He was trapped here, as trapped as if he were in the Oahu Prison. He'd forced that sniveling coward Lurry to barricade the office against attack and seal off large parts of the station, but _**he **_had no means of escape either. And how long would it be before some of the station's denizens broke out of confinement and came after him?

Noises in the corridor, the sound of footsteps, a voice giving commands alerted him that at least some of his captives were free. The center of the door began to glow . . .

"Phasers," Lurry supplied, just a hint of triumph in his voice. "They're cutting through the door."

Chicken aimed at the center of the glowing area; his shot penetrated the door. A yell told him he'd hit at least one of the rescuers. "Turn that thing off or I'll kill every one of you!"

"Stop!" Lurry's panicked yell grabbed his attention. You puncture the outer hull of this station and we're all dead! That includes you!" He neglected to mention the station's heavy shields.

"OK,OK. You just sit tight, Boss-man and tell your buddies to back off. I won't shoot the hull, but I will shoot you." He was nearing panic himself. He'd almost rather see Steve McGarrett materialize in the middle of the room. He kicked a convenient tribble.

_q-q-q-q-q_

_Q fairly danced with delight. These humans were always so interesting. He couldn't have chosen a better mix of experimental subjects: short-tempered, greedy, conniving. Then a couple of heroes. And now, a parley between humans and Klingons. Just one possible fly in the ointment: that Vulcan. He'd always considered himself superior to their logic. After all, he was a Q, immortal, omnipotent. Maybe he'd just sit back and watch how things worked out. _

_He considered his other subjects. Perhaps he should check on Kirk and that curly-haired detective . . ._

_q-q-q-q-q_


	5. Chapter 5

_CHAPTER** 5: FUTURE PAST  
**_

_**Honolulu**_

"Got the information you wanted, Danny!" Kono waved a paper as he entered the big office. "Four freighters already docked. One coming in around ten tonight. The _Kobayashi Maru."_

"_Kobayashi Maru?" _Kirk seemed surprised. The no-win scenario. He'd changed that. He didn't believe in no-win scenarios. Except for the bad guys.

"You know dat ship, Bruddah?" the big Hawaiian questioned. At Kirk's shake of his head, Kono added "She's a little tramp steamer, dockin' down on one of the old pineapple piers just outside of Pearl City."

"They used to ship pineapples out of there, Captain," Chin explained. "No more. Only an occasional small cargo ship puts in now and then."

"And it's a perfect place for a smuggler to land illicit cargo," Williams continued. "Thanks, Kono. Maybe we can bag some of Chick's ring tonight. Wish I knew where Chicken himself was."

"We can at least cripple his operation," Chin reminded the young detective. "It'll take him a while to pick up the pieces."

"A long while, I hope." Danny pointed to Steve's large scale map of Oahu. "Here's the old pineapple dock. How about stationing HPD officers here, here, and here?" He pointed to some strategic locations. "They can watch the whole dock from these points without being seen themselves."

"Chick's people will probably have an intermediary pick up the drugs. Chick has several local small businessmen in his pocket - herbalists and the like. They'll use one of them," Chin suggested. "I can work up a list of people we've had under surveillance as possible collaborators."

"Thanks, Chin," Danny acknowledged. "I'll contact HPD. We'll need Duke, Ben Kokua, Frank Kamana, and . . ." He named a few other officers who routinely worked with Five-O. "I want them in position just after sunset. We'll join them there."

"How can I help?" Kirk questioned. "Mudd doesn't know I'm here in this time. If he's posing as one of the gang, it would give you an added element of surprise."

"Thanks, Jim. You're with us." Dan was happy to have the Captain with them. That 'element of surprise' just might mean the breakup of a major drug organization. Chick and his pals had been a thorn in Five-O's side far too long.

_q-q-q-q-q_

"_Ingenious," Q noted. "That Five-O team works together as well as Picard and his bridge crew, even without their leader. Maybe I should just leave McGarrett on the 'Enterprise.' Or not." He rubbed his chin. "I wonder how he's getting along with those Klingons . . ."_

_q-q-q-q-q  
_

_**USS Enterprise**_

"You are familiar with the layout of Station K-7, Captain Koloth?" The Vulcan pointed to the schematic. "Manager Lurry's offices are here. Chicken has forced a seal of the cargo decks here," he pointed again, "the engineering section, and the residential areas."

"That leaves the common areas like the bars vulnerable," Scotty joined in.

Koloth studied the chart. "A perfect entry for an assault!"

"Perhaps not, Captain. It is not my wish to injure or end innocent lives. I simply want to remove Big Chicken." Spock was logical as always.

"Any day is a good day for a Klingon to die! And to die honorably in battle! The doors of Sto-Vo-Kor would open wide to such a one. Kahless himself would welcome him into the company of warriors! The feasting, the songs! The deeds of valor!" Korax seemed lost in visions of glory.

McGarrett stood. "We are not here to start a war, glorious as that may seem. We are here to capture one man, a man who has barricaded himself and one or more hostages in this office! We know he's armed with an archaic projectile weapon, armed and dangerous. He's unfamiliar with the layout of the station, so someone has obviously given him some information."

"That P'tahQ of a tribble hunter, infesting the galaxy with those disgusting beasts," Koloth interrupted.

McGarrett shot him a withering look. "We have the element of surprise. He does not know we are working together. Nor does he know that I'm here tracking him. I know this man. He will kill if he feels threatened. And at this point, he must feel very threatened. I would like to avoid bloodshed if possible."

"Captain McGarrett is correct," Spock continued the thought. "Surprise is our best weapon." He again called the group's attention to the schematic. "It is vital that we free the captives at the same time as we take Chicken."

"Aye, Mr. Spock," Scotty said. "I'd like to get to Engineering. Mr. Chekov, Mr. Korax, I'd appreciate your assistance.

"I'll take care of the cargo holds, with a few of Captain Koloth's crew," Sulu volunteered.

"Captain McGarrett, Captain Koloth, the Doctor and I will beam directly into the office complex," Spock stated calmly. "We will attack in thirty minutes. Will that be sufficient time, Captain Koloth?"

"It will." The Klingon smiled ferociously. He hoped Chicken would put up a good fight.

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Space Station K-7: **_

"Engineering secured, Mr. Spock," Scott reported. "We had to phaser through the door, but it's nothing that can't be fixed."

The Vulcan was not given to compliment on what he considered normal Starfleet operations. "Have the cargo areas been freed?"

"Aye, Mr. Spock. Ye could at least say 'Thank you.'"

"Very well. We will beam in to the central offices in five minutes. Please meet us there. Captain McGarrett anticipates some difficulty with Big Chicken."

_q-q-q-q-q_

Chicken waved his gun at the station manager. "It's too quiet out there! Something's going on." He felt a tingling in the air and stood stunned as shimmering columns of light appeared. That Klingon! And a tall, pointy-eared expressionless man – or was this another alien? Chicken repressed a shudder as the two apparitions approached.

"I believe," Spock noted, "the proper words are 'You are under arrest . . .'"

"For kidnapping, assault, smuggling, and other charges to be added later," a very familiar - and for the first time in Chicken's life, welcome - voice added. "Disarm him, Captain Koloth."

The outlaw handed over his weapon. "McGarrett! I'll confess to anything! Just get me out of here!

_Q waved his hand. . . and the universe blinked._

_q-q-q-q-q_

"_Incredible!" An alliance, however temporary, with the Klingons! Q couldn't have been more surprised. He'd expected a violent argument, maybe even a battle. He'd have to reconsider some of his earlier judgments about these mortals. Then again, maybe not. _

_He yawned. Perhaps he should check on his other experimental subjects._

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Honolulu**_

Harry Mudd stood just within the shadow of the small warehouse and watched the _Kobayashi Maru_ gently approach the dock. _Why it's not much bigger than a Starfleet shuttlecraft! How does that thing ever cross an ocean? _He noticed a panel truck pull up; two men hopped out and grabbed the mooring ropes, tying the vessel to the bollards and rolling a small gangway into place. Three crewmen quickly carried wooden shipping boxes to the pier. _Time to transfer the stuff! Mudd, you're way out of your league. _The con man looked for a way to escape.

Konrad Borland, sensing Mudd's hesitation, slipped out a back way. Something was about to go very wrong. He could feel the tension in the air. Better to let Mudd and Li Hong take the rap.

Danny Williams motioned to Chin and Kirk. Kono, Duke, and the other HPD men were already in position. The officers pulled back into the shadows as a van bearing the legend "Li Hong Pharmaceuticals – Chinese Herbal Medicines" came to a stop. "Li Hong's one of Chicken's associates. If he's here, Borland must be, too," Williams whispered to the Starfleet officer. He motioned for the men to move in quietly and wait for the contraband to be transferred.

Li Hong pointed to his van. No words were spoken; everyone knew their job. At Dan's signal, an HPD sharpshooter shot out two of the tires and the vehicle spun to a halt. Li Hong and his men tried to make a run; Kono tackled the largest of the three while two cops from HPD took care of the others.

"Book 'em, Duke!" Dan wished it were McGarrett saying those words. _Steve, I hope you're OK. We'll find a way to get you back home._

"Hey, Danny! Found another one!" Ben pushed a thoroughly scared Harry Mudd to the forefront.

"Harry, Harry, Harry, you should know better than to tangle with the law." Mudd never expected to hear _that _voice. Not here. Not now.

"James T. Kirk! Captain Kirk, my old friend! I'm just an innocent bystander. Get me out of here. I'll go anywhere in the galaxy!"

"That can be arranged!" Kirk laughed.

_Q waved his hand . . . and the universe blinked.  
_

_q-q-q-q-q_

_**Epilog**_

"Morning, Steve," Danny Williams called out as he entered his boss's office, cup of coffee in hand.

"Out here, Danno," McGarrett's voice sounded from the lanai. "Just enjoying a quiet morning before we start rounding up the bad guys."

"Speaking of that," Dan said, "I heard from one of my snitches there's rumors that a shipment of drugs is coming in on one of those tramp freighters. I'll bet Big Chicken's involved . . ."

_q-q-q-q-q_

James T. Kirk took his seat on the bridge and grabbed a cup of coffee from a passing yeoman. "Anything new, Mr. Spock?"

"Only that request from Space Station K-7. I informed them that we will be there in a matter of hours. They report continued trouble with tribbles . . ."

_q-q-q-q-q  
_

_Q skated along a galactic arm. It had been a most interesting experiment. He pondered his next move. Should he pay another visit to that entrancing Captain Kathryn Janeway? No, not now. Maybe later._

_Ah! He had it! He'd try placing his favorite Starfleet officers in an entirely different historical setting. But which one? The days of the buccaneers? Too pedestrian. How about Merrie Olde England? That was it! The adventures of Robin Hood!_

_He waved his hand . . . and the universe blinked.  
_

* * *

**_Note: _**_The Robin Hood adventure Q refers to is actually the Star Trek TNG season 4, episode, "Qpid."_


End file.
